


Bad Decisions

by Luna_Roe



Series: From Heartbreak to Recovery [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Bad Decisions, Chem Use, Comfort, Drinking, F/M, Friendship, Loss, Sadness, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16961058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Roe/pseuds/Luna_Roe
Summary: She had lost her husband and her son. When John Hancock sees the Sole Survivor after a long absence from Goodneighbor he realizes just how lost the Commonwealth's hero really was. And now, vulnerable and drunk, he knew what she needed the most was a friend to make bad decisions with.





	Bad Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't finished Fallout 4 then don't read this. It's been quite a while since the game came out, but I figured I would just give a heads up, just in case! Other than that, enjoy!

He had instructed that he be told the minute she returned. He knew that it had been a long road. She had gotten some pretty hard to swallow news when she got in to the institute. Her son… well, it was hard for Hancock to even think of it. So, as he watched the streets from his balcony, one of his guards announced themselves by saying, “She’s here, boss. Want me to send her up here?”

“No, let her settle in. She’ll head up here when she’s ready.” He took a drag off his cigarette, neve taking his eyes off the streets below. He would see her at some point. She’d head over to the hotel and grab a room, then head to the Rail for a drink. Another drag, and he said, “Just keep an eye on her.”

The guard affirmed his order and let himself out. Hancock was once again alone, left to his thoughts of the dame that walked in on his little town and set the dominos in motion. She went on a crusade, got in with the Railroad, rebuilt the Minutemen, and found her son. But word of what she looked like upon her return spread far and wide. She had been ghost-white, dark bags under her eyes, and deflated. Word had it that when she was asked what happened, she collapsed in tears. She hadn’t said anything about what happened. Just that she didn’t want to talk about it.

Sure enough, his hunch was right. She had passed five minutes ago heading towards the hotel. Once she got her room settled, he watched her make her way back to the Rail. His guard had returned and told him she had opened a tab and was drowning in whiskey. He nodded, and the guard knew that meant that he was covering the tab.

He finished his cigarette, and about three more, before he headed down to meet the Sole Survivor. But he didn’t need to go very far. He got to the doorway and saw the auburn hair belonging to the Sole Survivor headed up towards his room. She had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She was in her vault suit. She must have dumped her armor at the hotel.

“Hey there.” Hancock spoke to her. She looked up, glazed eyes locking on his. He could tell she already hit some chems.

She smiled, teetered a bit before continuing up the stairs, and said, “Keep me company?”

He nodded, stepped to the side for her to enter his room, and followed behind her. The door closed with a kick of his foot and he just watched her plop on the couch. She took a swig from the whiskey bottle before taking a long drag from her cigarette. She was a sight for sore eyes. Her body was thin, much thinner than when he last saw her. Her cheeks seemed hollow and eyes held very little in the way of emotion. She seemed dead inside.

He walked to her, taking a seat next to her with an arm behind her on the couch, and said, “Tell me something new.”

She leaned in to his side, surprising him, and sighed, “I finally find my son… my baby… and he’s a grown man. He’s the leader of the Institute. Was... he’s….” She choked on her words. She put the bottle to her lips again, downing a good portion of the liquid inside.

She had used the past tense… her son was dead. He wanted to know what happened. But that wasn’t what she needed. What she needed was someone to listen, be there with her, and join in on some bad decisions. But what she mentioned next, it struck him to his core, “Today is the anniversary of my husband’s murder….”

She curled further in to his side. He could feel her convulse as she held back the tears that wanted to be let loose. He put his arm around her, letting her know he was there, and said, “I’m sorry.”

She took a drag off the cigarette that had almost burnt itself out and sighed, “We had this deal, way back when,” She sighed and took a drink, “If he died… early… I’m supposed to get back out there and live. I’m supposed to go find someone to live my life with.”

Hancock knew that what he thought of was not what she needed. She was lamenting the loss of her husband, and now her son. She had so much sorrow, there was no need to add to it when she woke in the morning. No, he’d just stay there to be a friend. There would be plenty of time for him to flirt later.

She sighed, her cigarette finished and flicked in to the tray, and took another drink from the bottle. Resituating herself, she rested her head in his lap, legs hanging over the armrest of the couch. Her beautiful auburn hair splayed out over his thighs and he could see her green orbs hazing up at him. They were still dead inside, but a flicker of life was returning. Before he knew it her hand reached up and caressed his face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of another person touching his skin. Her fingers traced from his temple down his jaw, moving to his neck and then his chest before she rested her hand on his side.

“Problem is, I don’t fit in here. I grew up in a totally different Commonwealth. I’m a fish out of water here. No one would give me the time of day, let along buy me a drink.” She chuckled for a minute and added, “Except you, Hancock.”

“If that’s true, then everyone else are idiots.” He smiled down at her and continued, “I’ll buy you a drink any time. Plus, I have the best chems.”

She winked at him and propped herself up before downing the rest of the bottle of whiskey. He took the empty bottle and discarded it on the floor behind them. He called out for another bottle as he reached for the table and grabbed a syringe of Med-X. He offered it to her and she just smiled, surrendering her arm to him.

He chanced a bit of flirtatious behavior in that instant. With one arm he pulled her to sit on his lap, facing him. With the other arm he pushed the sleeve of her vault suit up to expose the skin. Her beautiful, perfect skin was bare sans the track marks from her chem abuse. She had been running from her losses for a while now. Mentally he took note to keep an eye on her usage. If she wasn’t careful, she’d go into a calming trance with the shit and never wake back up.

Her covered arm snaked around his neck and he felt her hips rock forward and backwards. She was teasing him. He grinned wickedly at her and said in his gravely voice, “Don’t tease me like that, babe. I’m not _that_ honorable of a man.” He shot her up with the syringe as he whispered in her ear, “I don’t think I could say no to you.”

She continued to grind her hips, inching closer and closer to his body as she did so, “I’m not asking you to say no.”

No one had ever claimed that John Hancock was an honorable man when it came to women. But the one thing that could be said would be that he was always obliging when it came to women. And right now, he was more than willing to oblige the attractive, seductive woman sitting on his lap.

~~


End file.
